


Not! Dreaming of You

by Blood_Red_Lion



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Hunk just wants to go home, Keith (Voltron) is So Done, Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Lance pines too but there's priorities, Lotor handles his pine better, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Pidge is also done with these losers, Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lotor (Voltron), Vampires, but he's pretending he's not, let keith sleep, possible anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-05-10 10:30:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14735289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blood_Red_Lion/pseuds/Blood_Red_Lion
Summary: (Because you won't let me sleep)Keith has been tensely living with Lotor for about a year. They aren’t exactly friends, but they manage. Suddenly with no explanation at all their neighbor Rolo moves out and two very noisy whack jobs move in. Somewhere between the loss of Lotor’s old fuck buddy and Keith’s sleep deprivation things start to get a little…odd.“I’m telling you, there is something wrong with them!”---Lance would feel bad for his new neighbors but, despite how hot they are, he's KINDA got some bigger issues to deal with right now.





	1. Keith needs sleep more than you need to live

**Author's Note:**

> Ships are subject to change, but I went into this aiming for Klancelot soooo... let's see how this goes. I might be a bit biased to Keitor here though given all my other fics are Klance.  
> Also, it says out of 12 based on a really derpy outline I scribbled forever ago. I never scribble outlines. They can't be trusted. So- that might change too.

Work had been exhausting. God knows why anyone in their right mind would travel all over the grocery store with raw meat in their basket just to leave it buried behind the cereals—because that’s absolutely where it’s supposed to go right?

Keith had been the unfortunate one to find the mess and the blood and the boxes and boxes of completed ruined cereal. That was just the cherry on top of his grueling day at the express lane feigning cheer and putting up with stupid customers.

One of these days he was going to quit. Just. Just take his little name tag and stab Iverson in the eye with it.

…That could end in incarceration rather than just a very clear “I Quit” though so…maybe not.

Whatever. He was exhausted. He was allowed to day dream.

Even if it was close to two in the morning and he was laying on the couch praying for his aching muscles to give him the strength to drag himself into the shower because!! He was not crawling into bed like this absolutely not, na-uh.

He was so tired though. Maybe he could just. Take a little nap right on the couch.

His roommate wasn’t due home for another couple hours, little club hopping piece of shit that he was. Heck, if Keith was really lucky Lo would find somewhere else to spend the night and Keith could have the apartment all to himself in the morning to wallow in his miserable life.

But he needed to shower.

Lo or not he needed to shower and crawl into bed and sleep for the next week.

He rolled off the couch and screamed at nothing—quietly, to mind his neighbors beyond thin walls—and when that didn’t help his situation at all he dragged himself to his feet to trudge along to his bedroom for his towel. Normally, he’d carry clothes with him as well as he was so unlike his roommate in that he didn’t thoroughly enjoy parading around the apartment naked but _fuck it_ he wasn’t home and Keith really didn’t want to wear clothes or exist—

He was going to pull the extra fluffy blanket out of the closet tonight it would be glorious and absolutely necessary and prudent to his recovery.

God did he still smell like cow blood?

He still smelled like cow blood.

_“What IS that?!”_

Keith fumbled with his towel.

_“I know it…! PIIIIIIDGE!”_

_“what-what-what-what!?!! Why are you screaming?!”_

That was coming from those thin walls as previously noted. A boy and a girl. The girl sounded further away but grew progressively louder as she presumably got closer to the wall Keith shared with them.

It _was_ two in the morning right? Why were they so active?

And didn’t Rolo live next door? Neither of these two sounded like Rolo.

_“Do you smell that?! What is that!?!”_

_“Lance we_ just _moved in there’s bound to be—Oh.”_

_“YOU SMELL IT TOO DON’T YOU!?!”_

_“Well—!”_

_“Dude! Is it coming from the walls!?!”_

They were excitedly squeaking at each other, getting shriller as they went. Keith could feel his head rattling. He really didn’t have the energy to be concerned about what kind of mold Rolo had growing in his apartment. Of course, by default that meant it could very likely spread and become Keith’s concern in a short span of time but…

For right now, he just couldn’t be bothered.

As he held his towel in his hands he briefly considered how disgusting his hands were. He’d washed them eighty times at the store but they just. Didn’t feel clean enough. And now they were on his perfectly clean towel he was going to need to use to dry himself off later.

Maybe he should just dump this in the dirty clothes along with his uniform and just—air dry.

_“No. No Lance, we can handle this okay. We just got here. This is gonna be good for us. We’re fine. We’re two… totally stable…totally normal individuals and we can handle this, no wigging out.”_ The girl sounded determined and her voice somehow retained human levels of shrill.

The boys did not, _“But Pidge it’s right there!”_

Keith glared at the spot on his wall where he was sure the boy on the other side must have leaned against it with a thump. He was confused, but too tired to ask so instead he walked over to that spot on the wall and slammed his open palm down against it. The smack made his entire body go weak but with the startled yelp from the other side it had been worth it.

“Keep it down!” Keith shouted at them.

_“God Lance look what you—how could you already upset the neighbor!?”_

_“Why does it smell like this!?!”_

Keith quirked a brow but the girl shushed him and there was the sound of several thumps and a door shutting hard.

Alright.

Okay.

You know What?

This is fine.

He took his disgusting towel in his disgusting hands anyway and went to shower.

There was something crazy soothing about being drenched in scalding hot water when your body felt like gelatin. He might have stayed in there until the skin on his fingers got pruney but frankly he didn’t care. He wrapped his towel around his waist, having mostly forgotten it was previously dubbed “disgusting” and let himself out of the extremely fogged up bathroom.

Standing out in his apartment in nothing but his towel felt a little strange, but he reminded himself Lo wasn’t home and hopefully, one day when he lived far far away in a lonely little shack in the middle of nowhere, every day would be like this and it wouldn’t be weird then.

The bathroom door looked out onto a hallway that ended in the apartment balcony and Keith offered the darkness of three AM a passing glance when he caught sight of something that looked vaguely terrifying.

If Keith had to admit it, it looked almost like the shadow of a person on the balcony. The shadow of a person, crouched on the floor, staring through the sliding glass door with glowing golden slits for eyes.

But, when Keith’s eyes adjusted from the light and fog of the bathroom to the blurred darkness of the outside there was absolutely no shadow and no glowing eyes.

Clearly, Keith was tired.

His stomach growled in agreement.

Wait, no.

No way. He was not hungry he couldn’t be hungry he didn’t have the energy left to be hungry—!!

\---

Lotor came home while Keith was standing in their kitchen chewing on a pop tart over the sink, still clad in only his towel.

 Keith didn’t need a mirror to realize he was probably pink in the face and doing a piss poor job of hiding his panic.

Lotor stared at him for a long moment, door ajar behind him, coat half shrugged off his shoulder and keys in hand.

“…Good Morning, Red.”

“It’s night time.” Keith mumbled over a mouth of pop tart he hadn’t managed to swallow.

Just like that, Lotor relaxed, “It’s 3 AM. As in morning. Don’t be difficult.”

“…Fair.”

Lotor shut the door and locked it before shrugging his coat the rest of the way off and hanging it from one of the hooks near the door. Keith had one too, but his cropped jacket wasn’t as aesthetically pleasing as Lotor’s long black fleece lined coat. And Lotor would definitely fight him if the hideous bright red thing clashed with his living room.

It _had_ won him the nickname “Red” after all.

To be fair, since Lotor’s dad was footing most of the bill for the apartment the two of them had moved into after their sophomore year, Keith really couldn’t complain much.

“Anyway, is there a reason you’re up this late? And…naked?” Lotor’s eyes drifted up and down Keith’s pale form and Keith felt vaguely violated. When Lotor dared to raise his eyebrows and smirk Keith almost threw the remainder of his pop tart at him.

“Got out of work late, showered, snacked. That’s all.”

“Darn, and here I thought you’d finally cracked and fallen prey to my charms, that I could have gotten lucky tonight after all. Perhaps there’s still a chance to convince you?”

Keith flushed and stuffed his face with the rest of his pop tart, a large part of him wanted to dart into his room and ignore the comment but the part of him that rose to the challenge wanted to bait him. He knew it was a joke but he wanted to see how far Lotor would take it, “You _want_ to convince me?”

Lotor leaned against the kitchen counter, a small but obvious smirk on his face as he looked Keith up and down again, seemingly considering the idea before he shrugged his shoulders, “Eh. You look beat. I’ll try again tomorrow. Stay naked though, makes it easier.”

Clearly Lotor was still working whatever alcohol he’d consumed out of his system if he was going to play flirt like that.

“The pop tart crumbs on your mouth really seal the deal too. _Really_ works for me.” Lotor’s grin widened to show his perfect teeth and Keith rolled his eyes, before rinsing his still vaguely pruney hands in the kitchen sink and wiping his mouth.

“Maybe I should eat something myself actually. Narti had me try something called a Dirty Bong Water. We had…possibly eight of them.” Lotor drawled out before squeezing past Keith in their tiny kitchen toward the refrigerator.

Keith hummed absently, trying to pretend he didn't pay close attention to the warmth of the other man's presence or the way several unnaturally silver strands of hair were falling loose from the bun he'd tied it all into earlier that night.

“We have to go shopping,” Lotor mumbled as he peered around the contents of the fridge. They were almost out of soy milk, the grapes had shriveled and needed to be thrown out, they had two eggs left and a ridiculous amount of pudding but otherwise, yes, it was looking pretty scarce.

“Not it!” Keith shouted immediately.

Lotor turned to stare at him as if he’d grown a second head, “But you _work_ there.”

“Exactly! That’s like my asking you to go to your dad’s firm on your day off.”

Lotor’s brows remained quizzically raised, “That isn’t the same thing at all. Why would I have to go there on my day off? I barely work there as it is.”

“To get groceries.”

“It’s a law firm, Keith. You're not making any sense.”

“I am very tired, Lo.”

The taller boy retreated from the fridge and shut the door behind him as he offered his roommate a sympathetic stare.

“Perhaps you should go to bed then?” He offered.

Keith nodded, “Hopefully the new neighbors will let me—oh! Did you know about that? That we got new neighbors today?”

At this Lotor’s eyes, a pretty deep dark blue, flashed in recognition, “Ah yes, I did see them come in today. Not sure what exactly got into Rolo but he said something about going back to his family for a while.”

Keith blinked, “…Rolo hates his family.”

“I’m aware.”

“He moved into his van when he was fifteen. He couldn’t wait to get away from them. Why the hell—”

Lotor raised a hand to silence Keith before placing both hands on Keith’s shoulders and turning him around, nudging him forward, “I don’t know Red, and there’s no point in asking me, these are mysteries for the daylight hours—”

“Eh it's not like it matters. I didn’t really like him anyway.” Keith continued, tilting his head back, watching Lotor’s long tan fingers as they released his shoulders with a questionable wave.

“Hm?” Lotor hummed. Of course, he didn’t know how little Keith and their neighbor got along given that in the last year he'd never actually seen the two interact. But if he had been paying attention one could even make the case that Rolo would have preferred his family to having to live next to Keith at this point.

Why were things so tense between Keith and his neighbor?

Well, because Lotor had an awful habit of getting bored, wandering over to the apartment next door, and not coming back for hours during which Rolo would play that horrendously awful “sexy times” playlist that Keith was more than tired of listening to.

Of course, to be clear, Keith’s annoyance was primarily with the playlist and not in Lotor’s involvement at all.

Naturally.

The man just had awful taste in music.

Though after Rolo met his girlfriend Nyma and Lotor stopped going over to the backdrop noise of deep repetitive beats Keith might have to admit he found his neighbors existence slightly less annoying.

Even despite the fact the music never stopped because Nyma wasn't even remotely prudish.

But again, Lotor wouldn’t know and it didn't matter because it had nothing to do with Lotor.

Nothing. Not a thing.

“He was just a dick sometimes, ya know?”

A vaguely knowing look passed over Lotor’s face as he eyed his roommate. At Keith’s unsure silence Lotor finally shrugs and reached up to run his fingers through his hair. Remembering at the last moment that his hair was tied up, he lifted both hands instead. One removed the hair tie, the other quickly went to work threading through his locks to make them appear sensible.

Of course, they always appear sensible.

Because Lotor always looks like a goddamn model no matter what he’s doing.

At least, Keith thinks dryly, he knows Lotor’s hair isn’t naturally silver. Hell, he’d even helped touch up the other mans roots once or twice when they’d been having a tolerable week.

Still. Rooming with Lotor had always given him a touch of a self esteem issue. He was just. Perfect. All the time. And on top of that he was a very prosperous flirt who could get pretty much anyone he wanted and flaunted this evil super power with this infuriating pride—

Keith wasn’t really interested in relationships if he was being honest, he was too busy trying to figure out his life and what he was going to do with a bachelor’s in liberal studies and a dead end cashiers job to really try going out and meeting anyone. But sometimes, he figured, it might have been nice.

And maybe it would be nice to get that kind of attention from Lotor in a more genuine way.

Rather—not Lotor, of course not _Lotor_ —but when he’d walked in earlier and almost looked like he was genuinely checking him out it almost made Keith feel…good.

God damn Lotor had nice hair.

“But the new neighbors are noisy. So. I’m not sure if we leveled up or not,” Keith offered finally.

Lotor raised a brow as he decided he wasn’t going to wait for Keith to call it a night and let himself into the bathroom. Keith stayed idle at the entrance to the hallway. Honestly, it was rare they’d talked this long as it was, and Keith probably should have taken the hint and just gone to bed.

Heck, he was still wearing just a towel. How exhausted was he that he could just forget that fact?

“Noisy?” Lotor called out to him, surprising him. He really had thought Lotor was going to ignore him and head to bed at this point.

Lotor turned on the sink and proceeded to brush his teeth while Keith explained what he’d overheard when he came back from work.

“Rolo doesn’t have mold. I was there yesterday,” Lotor responded dryly when he was finished rinsing.

“Well what else could it have been?”

“More questions I’m simply not equipped to answer for you tonight, Red. But I’ll tell you what, I’ll go over tomorrow and investigate. Make nice with the new neighbors. I’m sure they’re not as bad as you think.” Lotor dried his hands on the purple hand towel and shut off the bathroom light mumbling about it being way too late to take a shower and odds were Keith had used all the hot water.

This was one of their first arguments as roommates, they both enjoyed scalding hot showers and if Keith was tired he simply would not leave. They had decided at that point Keith would bathe in the mornings and Lotor would take the evenings baring unforeseen circumstances that they would then accommodate to accordingly. Much like he was going to do now.

But again, Lotor was perfect so he probably didn’t even sweat and he certainly didn’t come home smelling like cow blood so he’d be fine.

Regardless, Keith couldn’t help but consider how willing Lotor was to visit the new neighbors.

“…Which one.” He groaned, voice dripping with exasperation.

“Pardon?”

“Which one caught your attention?” Keith grumbled while the taller male paused in front of him, his eyes lingering on Keith’s collar bone for just a second. Keith assumed he’d imagined a mosquito or something. Lotor absolutely hated those and would quite comically rave about setting fire to the apartment if it took longer than ten minutes to kill one.

Not that there was any reason for Keith to be thinking about some of the funnier or cuter things Lotor was capable of when he was so close to him and naked.

Honestly, Keith didn’t want to hear the answer to his question but he couldn’t help that he’d still asked it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Keith.” Lotor even said it with a lilt and the beginnings of that shit eating grin Keith hated so much.

“I swear to god Lotor— they already sound annoying I don’t need you making it worse.”

Lotor laughed outright and Keith wanted to wretch at the awkward feeling in his stomach.

“Red, you think everyone is annoying.”

“And don’t you forget it. You’re not even an exception.”

Lotor nodded, raising a hand to Keith’s head and roughing up his hair. Would it be dramatic to say it felt like his heart stuttered with the motion? Lotor gave him palpitations. Clearly living together was shortening his lifespan.

“I’m aware. Nice chatting with you, we should avoid it in the future.”

Keith shivered at the fond way Lotor said that, but he blamed his current ensemble for it, “We should. Agreed.”

Lotor removed his hand from the others hair and waved, “Night Red.”

Yeah. Yeah really this was such a weird night.

“Night Lo.”

Lotor’s bedroom door shut quietly behind him and Keith shuffled into the hallway closet to dig out his fluffy blanket as he had planned at the beginning of the night.

When he made it to his room the neighbor was playing music. Not as loud as Rolo but still loud enough to keep him up if he were any less exhausted.

The quality of music was also nicer. Softer… Spanish?

When Keith’s head hit the pillow he went out like a light, whether it was from exhaustion paired with the music or the idea of this being the start of one of those “tolerable” spells between himself and his roommate, he didn’t know, he didn’t care.

Sleep was just. So good and so necessary right now.

And yet he woke up around sunrise to the sound of his neighbors shrieking.

_“Cover it up! COVER IT UP!”_

_“I’m TRYING!”_

Keith pulled his second pillow over his head and squeezed it tightly. Somehow, he got the feeling sleep would be a rare thing from now on, with those two-living next door.

What the fuck was _wrong_ with them?


	2. Lotor’s favorite smell: Subtle and controlled Pine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor's version of chapter 1, he might be a little less oblivious than he lets on.

When Lotor dragged himself out of bed that afternoon, a glorious day spent lounging in his sheets with his laptop and leisurely managing his online classes, he hadn’t expected to open his front door to Rolo attempting to make his way down the stairs; his meager belongings gathered up unceremoniously in his arms.

“Going somewhere?” Lotor had asked him.

His friend and old bed mate looked at him with crazed brown eyes and Lotor fought every instinct in him that started to scream in concern.

“Uhm. Moving.”

“...in with Nyma?” Lotor offered. Nyma was Rolo’s girlfriend, it made some sense. Well, as much sense as Rolo trying to move so abruptly.

“You know, you’d think that would be...” Rolo eyed the ceiling, sweat breaking on his brow, “I don’t know. I’m going to stay with my family for a bit. Actually...”

Lotor wanted to fight the growing concern more, he and Rolo had always kept shit casual and now Rolo has a steady and surprisingly wonderful girlfriend that Lotor was almost fonder of than him.

It was not his problem to worry over Rolo.

He had his own issues.

All that said, Lotor was extremely concerned.

“You don’t even like your family...?”

Suddenly there was a crash from inside Rolo’s presumably empty apartment as a small girl popped her head out of the front door, “Sorry! Sorry, I slipped, no big deal— oh. Oh, hello _stranger_. _STRANGER_ who is _NOT_ Rolo and has not yet spoken to _LANCE_.” Her last word was said like a call rather than the end of her statement.

There was another jumble of noises, a box falling, someone mumbling “ow-ow- _ow_.” Some thumping like they were bouncing on one foot, and then suddenly there he was.

Lance, presumably.

Lotor blinked at him, then at the small girl, then at Rolo.

“The new tenants? You already _have_ new tenants?”

Rolo nodded.

“...I could live with this,” Lotor mumbled idly. Rolo was the only one who heard him, and he dropped his things and made to shove Lotor hard in the side.

“Hey!”

Because, to be fair to Rolo, he did in fact know Lotor rather well.

“H-hey, there...!” Lance started as casually as possible. The girl shoved him into the hall and shuffled about so only her eyes and the top of her head were visible beyond the apartment door as she stared at Lotor through bright hazel eyes.

Lance knelt and started to pick up Rolo’s things, gathering them into a neater pile than what Rolo had previously been carrying and he smiled warmly up at the other two men in the hall.

Lotor eyed him, kneeling on the ground, bright blue eyes reflecting the light in the hallway, gorgeous smile, broad shoulders and seemingly perfect dark skin so very visible due to the man’s baggy dark blue tank.

Ah, goodness, he looked good kneeling.

Lotor considered it for a moment and decided, then and there, he can never meet Keith.

“Do you rent 5A?” Lance offered as the awkward silence started to settle.

Lotor nodded, “I do, you pounced awfully quickly on 5B, I didn’t even know Rolo was moving.”

“Yeah well, Rolo and I are old friends so…”

“Really? Because I’ve known him for three years and he’s never mentioned you before.”

Rolo stood there quietly, twiddling his thumbs before remembering he was supposed to do something. He knelt beside Lance and picked up his things, “I have to take these downstairs, right?” He asked.

Lotor raised a brow.

Lance croaked, “Uh. Yeah. Silly. Of course, you have to take your things downstairs since you’re moving out and all. Ha-ha. Rolo, my man, once you’re done with that can you come straight back inside? Just so we can work out the subletting deal and all.”

He looked at Lotor and bless his pathetically beautiful face, Lotor let him have his crazy bizarre behavior.

Because Lotor wasn’t an idiot.

Dismissive, passive, disinterested maybe.

But he wasn’t an idiot and he was fully aware of the fact that something was very wrong with this picture.

Rolo nodded and got up to start down stairs again.

“And hurry back! No detours! I mean— you know Pidge, all kinds of impatient and I have to live with her, ha-ha...!” Lance called after him.

Lotor quirked a brow but reminded himself to not get involved. The girl at the door slammed her hand into her forehead and disappeared into the apartment.

“W-well it was nice to meet you!” Lance stumbled, getting to his feet. He was almost as tall as Lotor. Suddenly this made him less attractive if only because It meant he had roughly the same adorable height difference with Keith.

Definitely keeping him away from Keith.

If I sleep with him first he can’t have him. That’s a perfectly good reason to get into Lance’s pants, right?

...later.

Maybe.

Lotor offered his new neighbor a smile and took his hand, pressing a kiss to the back of his palm, leaving the door open for later.

“It’s been a pleasure, I look forward to your house warming.”

Or bed warming.

Whichever comes first.

Lance stood stock still for a moment as Lotor finished locking up his apartment door. When he turned back to face the stairs he offered the still frozen boy a dashing smile and a wave that he awkwardly returned and traveled down the steps to meet Zethrid and Ezor for lunch.

Lunch turned into standing around with Zethrid while Ezor shopped. Which turned into flagging down Narti who was finally calling it a night in regard to her studying. Acxa was the hardest to get out of the house but once they showed up at her door and Lotor used his patented, “don’t leave me with them!” As if he didn’t adore each of them individually and with all his jaded heart, she gave in and changed out of her pajamas.

Lotor did her eyeliner in the car, per Ezor’s request, and the rest of the night was spent idling around bar to bar as most every night the lot of them managed to get out. IF they were short one they usually ended up at Zethrid or Ezor’s house watching terrible movies while Lotor discussed how they could be done better.

He wasn’t a film major by any means, but it was far more fun to discuss than political science.

Acxa, the law student who Lotor occasionally considered was only his friend so she could get in with his father’s firm when she graduated, opted to be the designated driver.

“I have a quiz tomorrow, don’t want to be nursing a hangover.”

So, it was with Acxa’s continued sobriety in mind that Lotor allowed Narti to order the rounds and downed two glasses of something that tasted deceptively low on alcohol before considering why that might not be a good idea.

See, because Lotor wasn’t as put together as he liked to think he was. And when vaguely inebriated and at a certain level of comfort…

He starts to talk.

Not babble, he wasn’t that kind of drunk.

Just. Casual things.

Things that made him happy.

“Yesterday—Yesterday he really—he was wearing that gaudy red jacket I’m always complaining about you know the one that doesn’t belong on this planet…and he…” Lotor chuckled to himself, sipping at his drink while he tried to keep his conversation going with Ezor who simply smiled fondly at him from across the table, her head in her hands, “I have no idea how he does it but the boy gets himself stuck in the bathroom door. You’d think the jacket is short enough that would be particularly difficult to do. But no, no, my roommate is magical and he just…”

Zethrid rolls her eyes and Acxa taps away at her phone while Narti leans her head lightly on Ezor’s shoulder, a small smile on her face also though her hair falls over her eyes.

“Honestly I blame the jacket. It’s just asking for trouble and the world is trying to tell him to get rid of it.”

“Maybe you should buy him a new one,” Acxa offers without looking up.

Lotor almost spits out the sip of his drink he’d just taken, “What? Why would I do that? We don’t buy each other things that’s. Weird.”

“And going to fuck your neighbor every time the two of you spend more than twenty minutes together isn’t weird?” Zethrid scoffed.

Lotor darted his head back while Ezor giggled and Narti made a ‘tut’ noise.

“Is this the trial of Lotor? I thought we weren’t scheduled for that until next week.”

“Oh! He’s right, see guys that’s March second, Zethrid pull it back, save it for next week,” Ezor laughed, motioning towards nothing in lieu of a calendar.

Lotor rolled his eyes and leaned back against the booth they were currently sitting in, downing his third drink as it all started to dawn on him.

“…My neighbor moved out today.”

All eyes turned to him very abruptly and the mood sunk like a stone.

“Oh no,” said Ezor. Acxa bit her lip and Zethrid rested a comforting hand on Lotor’s shoulder.

“I guess you’ll just have to… I don’t know….” Narti said thoughtfully as she presumably peered through her long heavy bangs toward the ceiling, “Deal with your feelings for your roommate.”

Lotor glowered at her while Acxa chuckled through her nose, taking a sip of her Jamaican cola. She wasn’t Jamaican, but when she was designated driver she liked to try the more fun sodas. So far, this one was her favorite.

“I don’t have _feelings_ for my roommate. He just. Happens to be attractive.”

“Lotor you’ve liked him since you almost crashed your bike into him freshman year.”

Lotor eyed Zethrid like she was really coming for his life, she was really going there tonight.

“Must you?”

She raised a brow.

“Must you attack me in this way, Zethrid?”

Her hand which hadn’t left his shoulder tightened its grip and shook him a bit, “Relax man, just admit it.”

“I don’t have to admit it, there is nothing to admit. I’m just. Going to have to find another easy outlet to sexual frustration. Because that’s all there is to it. Understood?”

Acxa and Ezor eyed each other across the table and Narti tapped on the table, her other hand lightly pressed to her cheek, “Whatever you say _Lo_.”

Lotor twitched.

Ezor grinned and shoved her friend playfully, “Nice one Narti.”

Zethrid’s hand dropped and she pointed a finger on her other at Narti, “Low blow N.”

“Yeah you know you can’t do that,” Acxa grinned over her glass, “That’s _Keith’s_ name for Lotor.”

Lotor ordered and finished his fourth drink and decided that if the girls were going to play tonight this was his last one.

Two hours later found him suspiciously sensible as he walked up the steps to his apartment alone.

Maybe he should have had a fifth. Or perhaps had less water. It would certainly be easier to sleep with Keith down the hall if he were inebriated enough to just pass out the moment his head hit the pillow.

He remembered how Keith had said that was how he slept. Fast and easy and without a care in the world. It had been a discussion before Keith had signed on to be his roommate, when Lotor had explained to him that Keith would make a tolerable roommate however he would need to put up with Lotor’s late nights.

_“Yo for the rent, even if I you woke me up, I’d handle it.”_

_“It’s a good thing you’re a beggar child.”_

As it stood, Lotor was feeling far too sober. Nervous energy was ebbing at his skin and he wondered if Keith was wearing his boxers/t-shirt pajama combo or if he was doing the lounge pants and tank. Or, god help Lotor, was he doing that awful thing where he wore a robe and Lotor had no goddamn idea if he was wearing anything under it.

Not that it mattered. Keith would be behind a closed door at the end of the hall sound asleep and the odds of Lotor being up early enough to see his pajamas given how late he was coming in were slim to none.

Besides, why should he be thinking about his roommate’s pajama choice anyway?

The man was just.

He was.

Maybe Lotor was a little tipsy because then he could blame the little weak fluttering in his chest at the idea of his roommate’s ridiculous antics on the alcohol.

But then he was there. In the kitchen. In nothing but a towel with his damp hair sticking to his neck and pop tart crumbs on his lips and Lotor felt the exact moment his heart decided it no longer wanted to live in his ribcage and started to thrash about wildly demanding its freedom.

He had to fight it. He had to will it down. He forced the heat from his face and took full damn control of his body thank you very much.

“Good Morning, Red.” Nailed it.

As Keith proceeded to talk around the pop tart in his mouth Lotor reminded himself, this is it, this is the man who haunts his dreams.

Idiot.

Ah but damn if he didn’t look… Lotor caught himself eyeing him and realized if he was being too obvious he needed to play it off playfully or face the consequences. How could that even work? Play up ogling your roommate to detract from the fact you were _definitely_ ogling your roommate?

“Darn, and here I thought you’d finally cracked and fallen prey to my charms, that I could have gotten lucky tonight after all. Perhaps there’s still a chance to convince you?”

…Whatever it seemed like it worked.

Then Keith, in all the sultry goodness of a baked potato responds to his playful jibe with, “You _want_ to convince me?”

Goodness there’s still pop tart crumbs on his mouth.

Lotor wants to kiss them off.

Whoops don’t do that don’t.

Lotor forces the smirk to remain on his face and continues their little game. After a jibe about the food on his face he watches Keith clean himself off against the sink and Lotor realizes the flush on his cheeks is just all manner of frustratingly adorable. And maybe he’s a glutton for punishment because now he wants to be closer to Keith. Just a little. Just enough to feel his energy just within reach.

 “Maybe I should eat something myself actually. Narti had me try something called a Dirty Bong Water. We had…possibly eight of them.” Lotor lies, trying to continue covering up his behavior while at the same time trying to distract himself as he brushes up against Keith’s bare back in their too small kitchen.

He smells like soap and Lotor’s own shampoo and were he feeling any more sensible he’d call the shorter boy out on it, but he was already well aware of the fact Keith’s shampoo had run out yesterday and hell if the idea that Keith smelled like Lotor even for a minute didn’t make him light headed.

 Distraction. Distraction. Must find a distraction.

“We have to go shopping,” He mumbled. It would have been the perfect opportunity to remind Keith to purchase his own shampoo again but at the same time Lotor really didn’t want him to. Regardless, the following bumbled conversation concerned Lotor a bit to the point where he had to turn a sympathetic stare on his roommate.

Because, while not unlike the case with Rolo, Lotor couldn’t help but care when it came to Keith. He tried to tell him to go to bed. Keith agreed, but suddenly he was talking about the new neighbors.

Lotor wasn’t sure if he should be happy that Keith apparently wanted to continue their idle chatter or put out that the boy needed sleep and wasn’t getting it. And then there was the added issue of being reminded that Rolo had gone and honestly right now Lotor could definitely use him.

How long had it been since Rolo and Nyma started dating?

How long had it been since Lotor’s last tryst?

How long was he going to last without one if Keith was going to parade around the house in a towel?

Lotor placed both hands on Keith’s shoulders to push him into the hall, hopefully to sleep. He ignored the nagging in the back of his head that Keith’s skin, clean, pale, smooth and perfect, looked far too beautiful when the added contrast of his own dark hands came into the image. He briefly imagined what it would look like if he gripped the boy’s hips, thumbs pressing into his waist. Would he even like that? Or Keith’s hands against his skin. Small, shy, awkward…

STOP.

“I didn’t really like him anyway,” Keith explained, regarding Rolo. Lotor released him and tried to settle his breathing.

Besides, he knew that already. Rolo always told Lotor about how poorly his roommate treated him when Lotor wasn’t around. How the boy was rude and agitated and usually avoided Rolo like he was some kind of pariah. He wasn’t sure why Keith disliked Rolo this way, but he had his suspicions.

At least, it certainly seemed Keith was extra irritable whenever Lotor would come back from the other man’s apartment. But then again, it might have just been Lotor’s wishful thinking. For all he knew Keith might have just felt uncomfortable about the whole thing.

Lotor reaches up and releases his hair from the bun he’d tied it into earlier in the day and starts to rake his fingers through it, make it sensible. Keith was standing there looking gorgeous as ever so Lotor sure as hell wasn’t going to disappoint with messy hair.

Keith started to babble about the noisy neighbors and Lotor decided he didn’t need to be so self-destructive and went to brush his teeth. It was silent for a moment as he walked into the bathroom and he wondered if Keith had decided to call it a night. But, on the chance that he hadn’t, and they could continue this conversation for just a bit longer…

“Noisy?” Lotor asked him.

When he finished washing up he casually slipped Keith the mention that he’d gladly visit the new neighbors and he watched the boy’s cheeks flare just a bit. Judging by Keith’s immediate reaction, he must have smiled.

“Which one caught your attention…?” Keith grumbled, his eyes downcast, his arms crossed over his bare chest, his cheeks just the faintest pink. Lotor’s eyes trailed down from Keith’s cheek, past his neck where his damp hair still stuck to it, to his collar bone just ever so slightly protruding and giving Lotor just a little too much to stress over.

Put those thoughts away.

Lotor, again, the master of his person, continued the conversation with a casual lilt and a smile, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Keith.”

They only stood there a few more moments before Lotor decided it was time to call it a night. He needed to curl into his bed and release the tension digging into his chest from just being in such proximity to Keith.

And yet, he did it anyway.

He reached out and roughed up Keith’s cold damp hair. It almost felt like there was still a bit of conditioner in there making it extra soft. But that wasn’t the point. The action made Keith’s lips part slightly and his breathing come out a bit quicker in his surprise and really Lotor had no one to blame but himself for what that was doing to him.

“Nice chatting with you, we should avoid it in the future.”

Keith shivered beneath his hand, “We should. Agreed.”

Lotor removed his hand and made his way down the hall with a wave, “Night, Red.”

“Night, Lo.”

 Lotor shut his bed room door quietly and pressed his back against it for a long moment, just breathing, reminding himself to do so. He had total control of himself, his emotions, his actions, his feelings.

And he absolutely did not want that awkward mess of a boy down the hall to be his.

Nope.

He covered his mouth with his hand and shut his eyes and imagined Keith’s trim waist in his grasp again. He imagined those eyes, thankful to the dark of their apartment for not allowing he be assaulted by those eyes just this once as he normally was, darkened and watching him. Those lips parted, the faintest whisper in his head.

He noticed his other hand was gripping his own thigh tightly and with an irritable groan he pulled himself away from the door and collapsed onto his bed.

This was fine. Being attracted to Keith was fine. Plenty of people were attracted to Keith, the man was gorgeous and fit and perfect. He could stick to this.

But when he finally fell asleep to the thought of crumbs on the corner of his mouth and stumbled flirting and petulant fits over neighbors and Keith’s slightly awkward voice saying stupidly, _“You want to convince me?”_

Well. Lotor sighed into his pillow. Maybe he was the one who needed more convincing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come chat with me on Tumblr @ Blood-red-lion and Dark-unimaginably-stupid-kids


	3. Lance is a normal boy with normal problems. Cross his heart and hope to die.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look at Lance and Pidge and ... the strange series of events that lead to their moving in next door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh RIGHT. I have a FEW open fics right now. Hahahahaaaaaa....ah.

_A few weeks prior-_

The first thing Lance realized when he woke up was that the light in the motel room was way too bright. Like kick in the teeth glass shards in your eyes kind of bright.

Next, he noticed how absolutely parched he was. Lips dry, throat on fire, hell his joints were screaming at him like he’s been dehydrated for days.

When his eyes finally adjust enough to the room another sense comes at him like a pile of bricks.

Everything…smells.

Down to the linen sheets and the small sizzling burn of a cheap light-bulb reaching the end of its life. But on top of that, almost drowning him, is the smell of…iron?

… Jeez.

To make his current physical standings worse, he’s _alone_ in the motel room he’d entered the night before with a very attractive partner.

Maybe, Lance hoped, they had some prior engagement to get to in a hurry. Maybe there was a note or something and this wasn’t just a one-night stand.

Though—he doesn’t remember _having_ sex last night. But his shirt _was_ nowhere in sight…

Lance dragged himself out of bed on wobbly feet. He could see his shoes over by the door where he’d left them, his jacket thrown on the chair—yeah he remembered that too. But then—nothing.

He stumbled over to his jacket and fished out his cellphone. His wallet was still in there too so that was a good sign. It wasn’t like the hot stranger (Who’s name was currently escaping him) had robbed him or anything. Yet there was, sadly, still no note or anything to imply that they ever wanted to see Lance again.

Maybe he’d done something embarrassing. Maybe he’d drank too much and just blacked out.

His phone read 5:23AM. Which meant, if he wanted to, he could still get home before his mom got up for work if he moved quickly enough.

He’d miss his shirt, but not as much as he’d miss casual family dinners without his mother glaring daggers into his soul for not being home when she says goodbye.

It wasn’t like he’d _planned_ to get a motel room with a stranger but hey, when the opportunity presents itself you take it.

So, with one last passing glance over the room, he pulled on his shoes, zipped up his hoodie to cover the fact he was shirtless and wandered out of the motel. If he had a little more time he’d probably have made sure the bathroom was as clean as possible and all that good nonsense because his mother did in fact raise him right, but it wasn’t like he could catch a ride home.

Regardless, again, it really didn’t look like much had happened.

Bummer.

When he was outside he braced himself against the cold and briefly wondered if it was possible to order a Lyft or an Uber home right about then.

Not that he couldn’t make the walk, but this was some extra level chill in the air. Sure, it was March and winter was still just hanging around and he was shirtless under his coat so the cold made _sense_ but this just seeped into his bones and nearly put him to sleep, he felt so damn weak.

Man, the sooner her got home the better. He decided to jog.

By the time he got home, quietly letting himself into his house, he crawled straight into bed and passed out.

He didn’t hear his mother’s alarm go off nor did he hear her leave, too exhausted like his body was made of lead.

What did wake him up was his sister cooking lunch. She had evening classes at the local community college so this was pretty normal. Lance himself was taking the semester off due to a financial aid mishap so his job was to cook dinner.

He wasn’t sure what it was that had really woken him but by the time he drifted into the living room the smell of his sister’s beef patties made his mouth water.

Which was already a feat in and of itself considering how he was still crazy thirsty. He mumbled a quick hello to his sister who rolled her eyes at him for sleeping in so late and let himself into the fridge to get at the Kool-Aid he and his siblings regularly kept stocked.

And, like the gross boy he was against all his mother’s teachings, drank straight from the pitcher.

Veronica shrieked at him and hit him with a spatula, “ _Asqueroso_! Lance, you’re washing that and making more now!”

Lance rolled his eyes affectionately, “ _Si Mama_.”

“Oh don’t call me that,” She hissed before turning back to her cooking. Lance downed what was left of the pitcher and looked her over. She was wearing a long sleeved blue cotton shirt and shorts that, as her brother, he wished she didn’t own.

“You’re gonna change before class right?” He asked.

She blinked at him, “Why? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Nothing! Nothing, it’s just. Cold outside is all.”

“Lance.”

“ _Ponte pantalones o le digo a mama_.”

She slammed the spatula down and gave him the finger before wandering off upstairs shouting about how he better not let her burgers burn.

As soon as she was gone Lance realized quite curiously that the food didn’t smell as good.

How odd.

\---

When eating and drinking and taking a scalding shower did not help him feel any better, the lights are still bright everything still smells weird and his skin is still crazy cold, he started to panic.

So he called his brilliant friend.

If anyone knew what kind of weird shit he’d gotten into last night it would be her. Though, he was a little concerned about calling her up at all since she’d basically dropped off the face of the earth about two weeks ago.

Thankfully, she answered the phone anyway.

“Lance!” She shouted into the receiver. The urgency in her voice almost made him forget his own issues.

“H-Hey Pidge, what’s wrong?”

“Can I come over? Please? Please—your siblings aren’t home right?”

Lance raised a brow but considered this. Marco and Luis were out skating at the park and Veronica was stomping around upstairs like she was getting ready to head out.

“Uh, yeah, Vero is just leaving… Are you okay?”

“I’ll explain when I get there okay? I just. I just need you to keep an open mind okay. And. Unlock the door.”

Lance nodded, then corrected himself by saying so out loud before he wandered over to the door. The light that filtered in through the glass frame landed on his skin and felt way warmer than a sun beam should. Lance almost couldn’t care though considering how cold he’d been just a moment before.

It felt kind of nice.

Until it didn’t. His skin was suddenly very red and stung like a bitch, very clearly a sunburn. How in the hell he managed to burn himself that quickly was anyone’s guess.

He stood there eyeing his hand until Veronica came up next to him.

“What are we looking at?” She asked him.

He shrugged his shoulders and took her hand, holding it in the light.

She raised a brow at this but didn’t flinch at all. That was, until she noticed her brother’s fingers getting red.

“Lance! What—are you okay?” She pulled him out of the light and looked his hands over. He was honestly in too much shock to say much.

“…Tell mom when she gets home, we’ll get the insurance card and go to the doctor tomorrow, okay?”

Lance nods at her before she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, “Maybe stay out of the sun for a bit okay?” She let herself out and told him to lock the door but per Pidge’s instruction he decided not to.

Besides, he was too distracted by the smell.

It was a couple minutes later when Pidge’s bike slammed into the side of Lance’s house and his front door swung open.

The girl practically rolled into the house, covered head to toe in a big green hooded coat, mittens and a scarf.

Lance knew it was cold at night, but the sun was still out for now and the temperature certainly didn’t call for any of that…

“Pidge are you—” he started from his spot on the couch, where he’d curled up with his phone to wait for her.

She didn’t let him finish his sentence though as she launched herself across the living room and onto her friend’s lap. Lance nearly shrieked.

“I’m sorry okay but I promise I’ll explain later and I just—ah…” Her forehead was burned, just like Lance’s hands, and her cheeks were flushed as well. Though whether that was a burn or embarrassment from her current position he didn’t know.

Honestly, he’d never thought of Pidge in this way and really had no idea how he was supposed to respond to the girl’s small knees straddling his waist. Definitely didn’t know how to feel about her hands tugging on his shirt or the way her mouth just hung open like _she_ was the confused one.

“…Oh no.” She leaned into his neck and took a deep sniff of his skin.

“Pidge. Hun. Sweetheart. Please tell me what’s going on?”

She sighed deeply but didn’t remove herself from his lap, “I don’t know if this would still work…it doesn’t feel right…”

Lance groaned, hoping she understood how confused she was making him. Then she made it worse, by removing her mittens and reaching one of her own fingers into her mouth. She winced and pulled out her now bleeding finger, holding it up for him to see.

“What do you think of this, Lance?”

Lance stared at the small bead of blood on her skin.

And honestly…?

“…something is very wrong with us, isn’t there?”

Pidge sighed again and stared up at the ceiling, before letting out a very long and drawn out “ ** _Fuck_**.”

\---

Adjusting was… difficult. Almost as difficult as talking Veronica out of going to the doctor but he’d somehow managed that. Honestly, Lance could feel himself losing it day by day. He couldn’t spend too long with his siblings after that first time with Pidge. He couldn’t enjoy his meals. He couldn’t _sleep_ like a sensible human being.

Something _had_ to give.

So, he called her again. She picked up after the first ring, his calls now set to priority.

“Did you learn something?” She asked, not bothering with a greeting per usual.

Lance rolled his eyes and leaned further back against his pillow in his blue walled room. Maybe he’d teach her manners sometime. But considering the fact her current priority was to rid themselves of this ailment they were both suffering from, he wasn’t going to complain. Much.

“Pidgling, let’s go out.”

He could hear the skeptic look on her face.

“Lance.”

“Pidgling. Pidgling I’m serious. Let’s go. Let’s get out. Away from people we care about for a little bit. Just. Find a stranger. Take the edge off.”

He got to listen to her take a deep breath and let it go through her nose loudly. Definitely tempted. Definitely frustrated. Definitely…

“I’m about to reach through this phone and strangle you, we can’t _think_ like that! We don’t know what will happen! What if—”

“What if I find a volunteer?” He hadn’t meant to say it like that, he hadn’t meant to say it at all. But the thought had occurred to him a few times.

After all, they were… kind of living a weird kind of fantasy right now, certain girls had wet dreams about this kind of shit. If he happened to mention it to someone who looked the part and they jumped on it, no big deal right?

He said as much to her and he proceeded to listen to her weigh the pros and cons of such a questionable venture before she made a small short determined sound.

“Okay. You know what? You go. Do your thing. When you’re done come over and tell me everything. I’m just. I’ll be here studying our blood samples.” She said it, she decided it, but she sounded sad.

“Or, and try this on for size Pidglet, you can get _more_ blood samples.”

She groaned into the receiver and it was another twenty minutes before she conceded to be picked up.

Another five to convince her to borrow Matt’s car because Lance intended to drink _something_.

When they were finally seated around a bar, Lance eyed the crowd and established that everyone looked pretty normal and not fetishy at all.

“I think we came to the wrong club,” Lance offered as he gulped down his second shot of whiskey.

Pidge scrunched up her nose in distaste and turned back to her journal, “Well yeah probably, but you’re the one who chose this place so…”

She read over her notes and tapped her pencil on the spiral. The girl clearly had a problem leaving work at home.

“Well it’s not like we just stop having problems when we walk outside Lance, someone has to fix this mess!” She bit out, looking at him again.

He eyed the empty shot glass and wondered how much it was affecting him because he really didn’t remember saying that out loud. She groaned in exasperation and shooed him off.

“Whatever, go find someone to entertain yourself with while I get some liquid creativity in my system.” She flagged down the bartender and asked for something Lance was sure was very sugary that he’d have to steal a sip from eventually. But, for now, he went to peruse the club goers.

There was an interesting group of girls toward the back, almost looked like the type he’d been inclined to look for tonight if it wasn’t for the fact they were chattering about their missing boyfriend. All four of them. One guy. Lance may have been desperate, but he was not desperate enough to fuck with a guy who had four girls all openly discussing how much they missed him for not coming out with them tonight.

Anyone with that much game should be revered anyway.

Next stop, he spotted a girl with some fishnet leggings, ripped jeans, big thick black choker. Her skin was dark with smattered white patches that appeared to be tattooed on given how they resembled galaxies. As he approached her he realized the white patches were just part of her skin while the galaxies were drawn on every visible inch of her with what was probably the ball point pen sticking out of her back pocket.

Sure, she didn’t _scream_ “bad tastes in wanna-be gothic media” but maybe she dabbled a little.

He sidled up to her, plastered on his most dashing smile and opened with his best line, “Hey there, the names Lance, and you are?”

She blinked up at him, pulling her attention away from her cellphone where she’d been rapidly typing just a moment before.

If Lance wasn’t so desperate, he would have noticed the sadness in her eyes before she seemed to settle on something.

“H-hey.” She shook her head and locked her phone, “Listen, I’m sure you’re a great guy but I’m kind of…not in the mood.”

Lance had been turned down a few times in his life. Came on too strong, too dorky, what have you. But her sincerity surprised him, so he decided to return the favor.

He leaned against the wall next to her and made sure his voice translated this for her. That he wasn’t looking for a hook up anymore and maybe she would appreciate that.

“That’s cool, that’s cool don’t worry about it,” He offered softly, “If you want me to leave I will, but your phrasing leads me to believe things could be…better, is everything alright? Do you need me to call you a ride home?”

She glanced down at her phone but didn’t answer.

“…Or maybe… you could talk to me about it? I promise I’m a good listener.”

He watched the tension leak out of her shoulders and she turned and smiled at him, all previous apprehension suddenly evaporated with just those few little words.

“I appreciate that… my name’s Nyma.”

“Nice to meet you Nyma. So, go ahead, tell me about it.”

And she did. In explicit detail. So much so that he had to wonder how much she had to drink despite the fact she didn’t seem to be drinking at all.

Before he knew it, Pidge was groaning at his side about how tonight had amounted in absolutely nothing while Nyma continued to prattle on about someone named Beezer who Lance was pretty sure was a dog. Beezer had absolutely nothing to do with the main subject which was how Nyma’s friend had ditched her for the evening but that conversation had ended at some point and Nyma just _kept going_.

“Tell your girlfriend we gotta go. Man, does she ever shut up?”

Lance shoved her and hissed out a quick, “Rude Pidgeon.” Before turning back to Nyma who’d barely noticed the disturbance.

“Hey, sweetheart, I’m really sorry about this but I kind of have to go, my friend here is tired and we came together. We can talk later if you want? Give me your number, I’ll shoot you a text and we’ll meet up some other time, yeah?”

Nyma blinked a few times like she was skidding to a mental halt before nodding sadly, “Oh. Right. Okay.” She held out her hand for his phone and quickly punched her digits into his contacts.

“Cool,” Lance said simply, replacing his phone in his jacket pocket while Pidge groaned again, “It’s a date then.”

Nyma blinked again, as if struggling with the term before smiling, “Well I actually have a boyfriend but yeah, whatever you say, it’s a date.” Her smile was nearly blinding and not at all forced despite what she’d just said.

Lance raised a brow and felt Pidge stiffen at his side before she leaned forward and stared at Nyma, “You have a boyfriend…? But just agreed to go on a date with Lance?”

Nyma didn’t seem phased at all, “Yeah. I mean. I’m monogamous, but there’s just something really compelling about Lance. It feels like it’s okay.”

Lance stared at her in an absolutely horrified silence before Pidge continued their goodbyes for him, “Ooookay! Well, we have to get going, but Lance will totally text you…” Lance heard her mumble “you weird ass sloppy—” which made him hiss loudly to shut her up.

Nyma clearly heard nothing and waved goodbye as the two of them bolted out of the club.

It was a few hours later, curled up on Pidge’s couch feeling so drained and so _fucking thirsty_ , that Lance heard the strangest sound.

The sound of Pidge figuring out something useful about their predicament.

“…Lance.”

“Yeah?”

“You need to call Nyma.”

\---

Lance… had no words to describe the date he’d just had.

He just.

Wow.

He and Pidge were currently sitting in a hotel room Nyma had purchased for the evening. Nyma herself was in the shower trying to wash off the mess at Lance’s request and Pidge laid on the floor, half under the bed with her notebook in hand.

“She really let us do that.”

“She really did.”

“All because you said so.”

“…Are we sure that’s why she did it?”

Pidge stared at him for a long moment and he stopped his pacing across the worn grossly patterned carpet.

He’d had the sense to remove his shirt so it was clean and sitting folded on the cushioned chair by the door, but Pidge looked like a demon straight out of hell, her face, her clothes, hell even her hair was a mess. She’d have to shower next and he didn’t care if he had to throw her into the tub it was going to happen.

Not that he apparently needed to go that far though.

“Lance. Lance I can feel my heart beating again do you know what that’s—well of course you do.” She breathed after a moment, still spinning in her euphoria. Lance raked his fingers through his hair and breathed in through clenched teeth.

“We can’t do this Pidge. Can’t just. We could have hurt her.”

Pidge bolted up and there was the decidedly horrific sound of her spine hitting the bottom of the bed but she barely even winced and crawled out the rest of the way, tossing her notebook onto the still clean queen sized bed in the room.

“But! But we didn’t! We need this Lance! We need her—I can’t—I can’t even look at my brother anymore Lance he’s all I have and I look at him and—and I can’t—I can’t even stay in the house anymore I can smell him, please, please I don’t know why you can do this and I can’t but we _need_ this!” Her eyes watered, and Lance felt his beating heart seize up in his chest.

“I don’t know what I’ll do if I wake up one morning and find out I hurt him.” Pidge breathed.

Lance didn’t need her to say it. He’d had the same thoughts around Veronica and his other siblings lately. Hell, his aunt came over the other day and she got a little too close to him when babbling about his taking the semester off and he’d gotten so lost in the idea of—

…

“We need to move. Both of us. We need to move out. And find some other way.”

“Hey guys,” Nyma started, a towel draped over her shoulders while she wore a large fluffy white robe. Lance eyed her neck stiffly and made to wrap a home-made paper towel scarf around her neck.

“Try not to stain the hotel stuff okay, sweetheart?” He mumbled to her.

Her eyes widened as if she hadn’t considered and she smiled at him, “Right! Of course. Will do. Anyway. So, I may or may not have taken a snap getting out of the shower just now and my boyfriend has a couple questions, would it be alright if he came over?”

Pidge eyed Lance like they were about to embark on disengaging an active bomb.

Lance acknowledged this was probably a fair response, but turned to Nyma and figured, why not.

“Nyma, does Rolo live alone?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come yell at me on Tumblr @Blood-Red-Lion


End file.
